Stormtide Rising

Chapter 16

The thread of fate the Goddess unwound that day came like quicksilver lightning from the sky. Operation Merkur began with speed, the headlong dash of those heavy German ships through the Straits of Messina and east towards Crete. Then the dark pre-dawn skies carried the drone of hundreds of planes, a flock of crows come to claim Britain’s last island outpost in the Med.

Churchill and Brooke were correct. There was no way the island could be adequately defended. Britain was already struggling to scrape up troops wherever they could find them. Crete had served as a forward RAF base, a thorn in the sides of Italian shipping that dared get too close, and a watch on the Aegean Sea, but little else. Churchill had stubbornly held onto it, thinking it would one day be a springboard for the invasion of Greece, but that was not likely anytime soon.

The German Operation Phoenix had upset so many plans and timetables, cut so many threads of fate, that everything was now being focused there. General Quinan now had five divisions and two Armored Brigades in Syria, and Jumbo Wilson was seeing his force building up to five Indian and two British regular divisions in Iraq, along with two Armored Brigades there as well. Even that was not deemed enough, and General Richard O’Connor would soon find out. Wavell had come to him earlier to pick his pocket, but it had not been practical at the time. Now, however, with the Syrian-Iraq theater deemed the most vital of the war, all the stops were being pulled.

O’Connor would soon be asked to send the whole of his 1st Armored Division, and one more British infantry division back to Alexandria. The armor would make the long overland march by road to the railhead at Tobruk, the Infantry would go to Benghazi for shipment by sea. There would be no further reinforcement planned for his 8th Army, and he was told to be as ‘obnoxious as possible’ concerning the harassment of the German defenses at Mareth, but he would have to do with much less than he had hoped.

O’Connor asked if he could send the 4th Indian Division, but the request, or rather the order, from Whitehall was very specific. He had already committed the 44th Home County and 51st Highland to battle, but the 50th was not yet heavily involved. Disheartened and upset, he had no choice but to order it to the rear, and he would then bring up the 4th Indian Division in its place. Receiving the order to disengage his 1st Armored Division was the hardest blow.

Half his 7th Armored Division had already been sent east, the 7th Armored Brigade, as it was now being called, but it was quickly shipped off to Basra. That left him with the infantry tanks of 2nd Armored Brigade, and the 22nd and 23rd Armored Brigades. He would have to give up two of the three, so he reluctantly send the 22nd, which was the last of 7th Armored Division, mostly medium and light tanks, and then he sent the rest of 1st Armored Division as ordered. That division had but one armored brigade left, so in effect, he was simply taking the last of the 7th to reinforce the 1st, and sending one good armored division east as ordered. It would be reorganized into 1st and 2nd Armored Brigades, with the 7th Motorized Brigade being the infantry element.

This would mean that his offensives would be mostly infantry assaults, though he stubbornly held on to his 23rd Armored Brigade, a large formation with over 400 tanks. He would be sending at least that many east in the newly formed 1st Armored Division, so now he would be fighting with only one mailed fist, and also losing a good infantry division. He resolved that he could still keep strong pressure on the Mareth Front, and even still threaten a breakthrough. He had already taken Medinine and battered the Italian defenders there.

His push for Mareth itself was still strong with the 51st Highland, 44th Home County and 23rd Armored Brigade, which was all the frontage would allow for. Yet there was nothing behind it until 4th Indian came up, and he would have no means of exploiting any success. All he could do was remain a nuisance for Rommel, and force his opponent to keep good infantry divisions on the line. He compensated in the short run by sending up his army troops—two battalions of armored cars, two more of Royal Engineers, and a rifle battalion. 4th Indian Division was already arriving, and he gave orders to hasten it forward even as he sent the 50th Northumberland back. He also still had the 1st South African Division, but it was largely scattered, a brigade at Benghazi, another at Mersa Brega, and the last at Tripoli. It would also mean that he could not make a flanking move to the left of the highland country as planned. There was nothing to do but keep battering at the front door.

So the British 8th Army would not make the glorious and decisive breakthrough that Montgomery had achieved at Mareth, and this would also have an effect on the western front in Algeria and Tunisia. Churchill’s insistence on making Iraq and Syria his main war effort now would see 12 divisions there, and these two additional reinforcements being sent by O’Connor. That left his 8th Army with only four effective divisions, which was all Monty had on the other side in Algeria and Tunisia. This was going to mean that the American Army’s role would be much more essential, and thus far, Patton had worked his magic to harden those troops into a credible fighting force.

The American divisions were still cumbersome, particularly the two big heavy armored divisions, and some of the infantry battalions were still raw, but they were learning very quickly. The victory in holding on to Tebessa was significant, though that took the best infantry division of the lot, Terry Allen’s 1st. When Monty joined the party, it had forced von Arnim to first consolidate, and then withdraw, leaving Rommel with no other choice but to do the same. The Germans were now on the defense all along the western Tunisian border, but it still remained to be seen whether the Allies could mount a decisive offensive there.

Now, in mid-February, the weather was still much of a factor in those operations. The heavy rains were turning the silty dust and sand to slurry, and the mud was always a problem. After a good long fight against the German Operation Sturmflut, the Americans also had to consolidate, lick their wounds, and replenish. The weather was imposing this on Patton and Montgomery as much as anything else, though they resolved to push as far forward as practical, gaining the most favorable positions they could.

Montgomery continued to press his 3rd and 43rd Divisions along the coast, and was approaching the port of Bone. In the center, flanking that city, he pressed his 6th and 10th Armored Divisions towards Souk Ahras as planned. This move displaced the US 3rd infantry further south, and now Patton was looking over the map to plot his next move. His only problem was the sad fact that he had run out of “good roads.”

“Damnit Brad, you invite someone to dinner and they stay all night. Now Monty is pushing for Souk Ahras, and he’s already astride the road I was going to use. Anderson’s 3rd Infantry is out of a job. If they can’t go north up that road, there’s nothing but mountain country north and east of their position.”

“George, the same can be said of the entire 1st Armored Division. Looks like you’ve talked yourself into playing second fiddle.”

“Not on your life,” said Patton. “I’ve already pushed Eddy’s 9th Infantry through Charpinville and on up to Sidi Amour. That opens onto a valley heading due east. Hell, I could press on to Thala, and all the way to Bou Aziz. Look, we can pick up Highway 4 there, and it goes all the way to Tunis. Either that or we could swing north for Le Kef and Souk al Arba, right around Monty’s flank. There’s a damn good airfield there that I would love to get my hands on.”

“True, but don’t forget Rommel. We stopped him, but he’s still down near Kasserine. Air recon shows the Germans are still holding the passes screening both Thelepte and Kasserine. They’re still dangerous down there, and I wouldn’t go sticking my nose out until we know more about Rommel’s intentions.”

“Well enough, Brad, but just the same, I’m going to do a little recon here and there to see what might develop. We’ve been sitting on this ridge for too long. I want Terry Allen’s 26th RCT and Blade Force to push out to the next ridge. We’ll occupy that and see if Rommel still wants to pick a fight. In the meantime, Allen can swing the other two regiments up to Thala and have a look around. We can flank Kasserine Pass on that road.”

“Well if you know that, then Rommel knows it too.”

“Of course,” said Patton. “Now let’s see what he wants to do about it. That’s how you play the game, Brad. You don’t win by sitting on the scrimmage line and pounding out two or three yards at a time like Montgomery. You’ve got to throw the damn football sometimes, and have a good receiver out there to catch it. I’m ordering both armored divisions to get moving. Don’t worry, I can push out one combat command and hold CCB from each division in reserve. Fair enough?”

“Well don’t you think we ought to discuss this with Eisenhower. After all, he’s the boss out here.”

“Sure, sure. You go ahead and arrange a meeting. But by the time you do, I’ll have Thala, and a halfway decent road to Bou Aziz and Highway 4.” Patton smiled, cocksure and confident, as always. That was going to move the Americans in a direction that would soon set up a most remarkable plan, but it would not dawn in the mind of George Patton. In the meantime, the Germans had a lot on their minds that night as well.

What was Rommel going to do? That was the question of the hour. Von Arnim had pulled both his divisions into a tight defense of the passes leading to Souk Ahras. Montgomery would not get through easily, and the mountainous country he was in would not permit him to flank the positions the Germans had staked out. For him, it was going to be the running game, that grueling battle of attrition, both there, and on the coast. Yet Souk Ahras was an important objective, as it was right astride the rail, which first ran south from Bone before turning east to Bizerte and Tunis. If it were taken, the troops defending Bone would have to rely on the coastal road for further supplies.

Patton seemed to be probing his way forward into a void. The Germans had given up a good deal of ground, with the 334th Infantry screening the far end of that long central valley the American General was so keen to explore. Further south, Von Bismarck’s 21st Panzer Division still held the pass closed at Kasserine, but also had to send a number of smaller KG’s north to watch roads from Thala that lead into Sibiba and Rohia. 7th Panzer held at Thelepte, covering the two good airfields in that area for the Luftwaffe. Randow’s 15th Panzer was still holding a wide front in the far south, with one KG facing off the French Constantine Division southwest of Ghafsa, and another watching the American 34th Infantry Division.

The rain continued, dampening Rommel’s spirits as much as anything else. He realized that his command was now well dissipated, static, and waiting on defense. Gone were the three factors he had lived by through most of his successful campaigns: speed, concentration of force, and shock. It was as if his Yang had suddenly flipped to Yin, and his mind was equally beset with the dark side, his thoughts sullen and bitter.

How long can I sit here this way, he asked himself? O’Connor has already taken Medinine, and now he is attacking the Mareth line. I am told he hits my infantry with armor, then pulls out. He switches out one division for another, hammering at the gate.

That was a very apt description of what O’Connor had been forced to do by those orders from Whitehall. At this point, Rommel was not aware of how grave the British viewed the situation in Iraq, willing to pull forces from Burma, Australia, and now O’Connor’s 8th Army to build up strength in Iraq—willing to sacrifice Crete and withdraw there instead of the strongly contested battle that Churchill would have preferred. As far as Rommel was concerned, his last chance for glory was now slowly slipping from his grasp. In a fit of despair, the weary German General drove to Thelepte to board a plane bound for Tunis to see Kesselring, and when he arrived, he told him he wanted to fly home to Germany.

Kesselring was surprised at first, but he inwardly thought this would be best, and he said as much. “Your health has been in decline for some time now. It has been two long years here in some of the most forbidding terrain on the planet. Even a Field Marshal must take rest. Do not worry about your situation here. Nehring will take temporary command, and I will make sure the Italians don’t get their hands on anything.”

After the loss of Tripoli, the Italians had been pressing Kesselring to remove Rommel and replace him with an Italian General. Kesselring paid them lip service, but never seriously contemplated such a move. General Nehring had recovered from a wound he had received in a bombing attack, and was still ready for service. In the real history, he had openly voiced opposition to holding Tunisia at all, which saw him quickly branded as a defeatist and denounced by Goebbels. That had not happened here, as Nehring had time to recover from his wounds in Germany, and when he got word that Kesselring had asked for him, he was more than happy to go back to North Africa.

Rommel had worked with him, knew he was a stubborn and skillful defender, but questioned his dash on offense. “You will have a pair of cagey defenders on your hands,” he told Kesselring. “You may have to use the lash if you are to get them to pull your wagon on offense.”

“That is what I have you for,” said Kesselring, trying to build up Rommel’s spirits. “Yes, the Italians hate you, and will undoubtedly be glad to see you gone. Yet you have performed brilliantly here, under the most rigorous possible conditions, always short on supply, and facing heavy odds. Be proud of what you accomplished. The Army you leave behind loves you, and they will remember you as well. Go home, take your much needed rest, spend time with your dear wife, and when you are ready, we will be here, as will the army.”

“Will you?” said Rommel darkly. “Montgomery is pushing on Bone and Souk Ahras.”

“We’ve given him everything he’s taken thus far. Don’t worry about him. This American General Patton, he’s the one to watch. I’ll have Nehring keep him in check. We’ll fight the defensive battle while you rest. Let me share a little secret with you—there are still two divisions in France earmarked for Tunisia.”

“What, a pair of second rate infantry units?”

“Quite the contrary. One is Hans Hube’s old outfit—the 16th Panzer Division. It is in Marseilles this very moment, and I have only to obtain permission to begin shipping it over. The other division is infantry, the 337th. True, it is not a first tier division, but given the terrain advantage we have here, it will do nicely.”

“Why didn’t you tell me of this earlier?” said Rommel, somewhat exasperated. “One more panzer division would have made all the difference in Operation Sturmflut.”

“I could not get permission earlier, and in fact, I am not even sure if I can get permission now. Hitler is heady with his new Winter offensives, particularly this business with Guderian in Syria and Iraq. He was disappointed that our operation had to be called off, but I have used this to good advantage. I told him that the frontage was simply too great, and the lack of infantry forced us to use two of the five panzer divisions in defensive roles. Then I suggested that things would have been very different if Hube’s old division were here, instead of minding the docks at Marseilles.”

“What did he say to that?”

“He told me he would consider it, and he has already released the 337th Infantry. Who knows, if we are lucky, we may get 16th Panzer Division in the same bargain.”

Rommel would get that division in time, but not in the way he imagined and hoped. “I’ll put in a good word for you when I make my report,” he said. “It will be humiliating to have to explain away yet one more failure here, but I am responsible, and so I should take the blame.”

“Do not be so hard on yourself,” said Kesselring. “In fact, I think Hitler has come to a new understanding of your trials here—at least that is what he said to me. He also spoke of a new tank that he wanted you to see. I don’t know what that’s about, but if it means we get more of the Big Cats down here, all the better.”

Two days later, Rommel would board a plane for Germany, feeling a strong sense of nostalgia to be leaving North Africa, and having the premonition that he would never return. Yet something deep within him knew his war was not yet over. He could see, far off in his mind, another battlefield, though he did not yet know where that might be. What did Germany do with its worn out war horses, he wondered? Particularly when they are Field Marshals….

As for Operation Merkur, the message received by Alanbrooke was just the first concerning Crete. Even as Rommel flew home, the elite German paratroopers of Student’s 1st Falschirmjaeger Division were leaping from the JU-52s over the northwestern segment of the island. It was now theirs to practice the art of offense that Rommel expounded. They would strike by surprise, with speed, and shock, concentrating as much force as possible on their chosen objectives the first day.

Kurt Student, and all his soldiers, had learned a very great deal in Operation Condor, and now they would put it to very good use.

Chapter 17

The lessons of Arrecife, Fuerteventura, and Gran Canaria were now going to pay the Germans good dividends. This battle for Crete would not be anything like the disaster it was in the old history. The Germans had learned that they could not land directly on objectives that were strongly held by the enemy. In the few instances where that had happened on Gran Canaria, particularly near the airfield they wanted, casualties had been very high. The units had been scattered, heavier weapons often out of reach of the ground troops. But Kurt Student had reacted quickly, ordering subsequent drops to be made on ground clear of the enemy, so his men could coalesce again as fighting units, under familiar officers.

This was the model that would be followed on Crete. Instead of landing directly on Maleme to try and take the airfield by storm, the battalions of 1st Falschirmjaeger Regiment, landed on ground some five to seven kilometers to the south. Further west, in the deep horseshoe Bay near Kissamos, the seaborne landing of the 5th Mountain Division would soon be underway. This time, the formidable presence of Admiral Raeder’s Mediterranean Fleet would not see the British cruisers lance through to the convoy and send so many troops to their doom.

Kissamos was 18 kilometers from the airfield at Maleme, some 10 miles. That morning, the pathfinders of the 7th Pioneer battalion would land there to secure the beach sites, set up beacons and guide the assault boats in. All the while, the first men on the ground could hear the deep booming rumble of heavy guns, and those close enough to the coast could look out and see the angry orange-yellow blast of Bismarck’s 15-inch guns. The big German ships were shelling Allied positions around Chania and Suda Bay, defended by the 6th Greek Regiment, and the British Naval Mobile Defense Organization, which included 1st Battalion of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers.

All the attacks were to be concentrated on the northwest coast of the island. 1st Falschirmjaeger Regiment was assigned to the Maleme sector, the 2nd Regiment would land east of Suda Bay and drive along the coast towards Suda and Chania, the Sturm Regiment under Meindel would land around Rethymnon to secure that small port and airfield, and finally, the 3rd Falschirmjaeger Regiment would land southwest of Heraklion to get that port and airfield. They were the farthest east on the island, about 70 Kilometers from Rethymnon over a winding, difficult highland road. It was expected that the British might try to land reinforcements there, or on the small ports along the southern coast, and they were to prevent that enemy buildup if at all possible.

Yet the defenders on the Island were much weaker in many ways that they were in 1941. Freyberg’s 2nd New Zealand Division was entirely missing, along with all the Australian troops. There were still six Greek Regiments, a full brigade of British regulars, and one prominent addition that was new to this history—the 3rd Polish Carpathian Brigade. It had fought in North Africa, becoming a tough and reliable force, and it had been one of the few reserves available to send to Crete, which seemed a forsaken outpost given all the many hot spots on every front.

The British had a contingency plan to quickly reinforce Crete by sending a commando group dubbed “Layforce” and the 1st and 2nd Parachute Regiments—Browning’s Boys, as they were called after their distinguished leader Sir Frederick Arthur Montague “Boy” Browning. The plan was to quickly land these units at the RAF controlled airfields, or along the southern coast, and then have them hump it north to join the fight, with Heraklion a major planned objective.

Yet the discussion, and decision, reached by Churchill and Alanbrooke would change those plans. Those airborne troops, if sent at all, would only be tasked with facilitating the speedy withdrawal of other units in the field. It also seemed that everyone was trying to get their hands on Browning’s Boys at the same time. Wavell had wanted them immediately when the Germans launched Operation Phoenix. Montgomery had laid out plans for them to drop behind the port of Bone, which he was now approaching after a long delay, and now they were figured into the rescue operation for Crete.

So this was not your grandfather’s Operation Mercury. Germans battalions, landing father from their objectives, would soon reform and begin their advance on the ground as largely intact units. They had naval gun support, just enough air support to tussle with the RAF and achieve parity over the island, and they had 5th Mountain Division landing intact over the first two or three days of the operation, with no real attempt by the Royal Navy to intervene. That is what the presence of the Bismarck, Friedrich de Gross, Prinz Heinrich, Kaiser Wilhelm and the Goeben did for the operation, it gave the Germans control of the sea north of the island from day one.

Yet it is said that no plan survives first contact with the enemy, and that was to be the case near Maleme. First off, Major General Heidrich and his headquarters staff landing west of Kissamos found that the British had posted a small garrison there near an air strip they had been working on, and it had been bolstered with sandbagged positions. He had to send in his HQ company, and then ordered the 7th Pioneer Pathfinder Battalion to attack those positions, which meant that several of the beaches would not be cleared and marked at dawn.

Then, when 1st Battalion of the 1st Falschirmjaeger Regiment landed in an area well south of Maleme, they were again surprised to find a Carpathian motorcycle company posted in the small hamlet of Voukolies. That would hold up the entire battalion as they deployed to surround and clear that town, and this would leave only two battalions left to make the initial attack towards Maleme, instead of the full regiment as planned. As they advanced, they soon encountered a solid defensive line put up by the 3rd Carpathian Brigade. The fight for Maleme, though not so bloody at the outset, soon promised to be very difficult.

At Rethymnon, the Sturm Regiment landed much closer to the town, which was held only by local Military Police Companies and the 2nd Argyll & Sutherland Highland Battalion. The problem there was that the port and airfield were widely separated, about 10 kilometers apart. The Germans seemed to make good progress against the port, but two Greek Regiments were sitting on either side of the airfield.

The Allied side was not without equal problems, and chief among them was the order sendt through Alexander’s HQ by Alanbrooke that every effort was to be made to withdraw units safely to ports on the south coast of the island to be taken off by the Royal Navy. The Greeks didn’t like those orders, and a few feisty Majors said they would flat out refuse to carry them out. As an example of the chaos this caused, Major Serhos of the 5th Greek Regiment obeyed the order and started his men marching south over Hill B near Rethymnon. Major Tryfon’s 4th Regiment, also at that same airfield, did nothing, staying put in their positions and deciding to fight when the first German units made contact.

A similar situation played out near Chania, with Captain Wolner’s 2nd Greek Regiment obeying the order and heading for the hills to the south, while Colonel Gregorio’s 6th Greek Regiment decided to simply sit and do nothing until runners could make contact with the British at Chania and sort the matter out. When the runner reached the city, he was surprised to see the British had no problems carrying out their orders.

The Welsh Fusiliers were already in column of march, abandoning Chania and heading south. Supplies that could not be carried were being burned or thrown into the sea at the harbor. Stevedores finished with that sad task were looking to quickly follow that infantry, and all of this was happening under the whine of Stukas coming in at dawn to bomb the whole area. Fires started by the naval bombardment of the harbor burned in the warehouses and dock yard, and a pall of heavy smoke hung over the entire scene. Chaos was not half a word for what was happening. Even the Greek King in exile, George II, found his entourage strafed by German planes as the 2nd Royal Engineers from Suda Bay tried to hustle him to safety. He had stubbornly refused to leave the Island after the Germans took the mainland, but now he had no recourse.

As soon as the British regulars marched off, the dock workers from Palestine and other Arab countries quickly followed them. Only the fixed shore batteries, and all the AA gun crews would bravely man their weapons, hoping to fend off the German air attacks on the long column now heading south.

Shame played a part in what was happening. Those two Greek regiments that did withdraw as ordered soon met the scornful rebuke of the local citizenry as they marched into the highlands. There, men were gathering in bands, armed with whatever they could find, a pistol, and old shotgun or hunting rifle, and planning to mount a guerilla style defense. With both their honor and manhood impugned, many of the Greek regulars were so ashamed that they simply broke from their march column and joined the guerillas. Down on the coast, Colonel Gregorio’s 6th Greek saw the British march off, was utterly outraged, and then simply ordered his men to attack the German companies advancing on Suda Bay.

But one force held its ground, intending to fight to the last—Brigadier Kopanski’s Carpathians at Maleme. He had held the line against the first German assaults, and now he was pulling in his companies to form a tighter perimeter. The Polish artillery fired incessantly, churning up the fields and forcing the German paras to go to ground. At the moment, they could only answer with small mortars and one battery of four 75mm guns.

East of this fight, the 7th Pioneers had finally overwhelmed the enemy detachment near Kissamos, and now the 5th Mountain Division was able to land its recon and pioneer battalions, and 1st Battalion of the 85th Regiment. They were all on the road heading east towards Maleme Airfield, a much needed reinforcement. In the old history, without those seaborne landings, the Germans had to fight for Hill 107 and Maleme Airfield at great cost so they could land fresh troops to move west to Chania. This time the original plan was on track, and Ringel’s mountain troops were on the way.

By the end of that day, the German paras were already starting to run low on supplies and ammo, resting exhausted companies and sending in fresh men from the rear. They were waiting for the Luftwaffe to make a scheduled air drop the morning of the 21st, and took heart as they watched the Luftwaffe swoop and dive on the enemy strong points. The RAF had been ordered back to Alexandria, the planes abandoning Kastelli, Butterfield, and all the main fields near the key towns. A few planes still operated from Timbakion in the south to cover the relief convoy that was scheduled to arrive after dark on the 22nd. As for Raeder’s task force, it was moving east, bound for the Aegean, its work accomplished in successfully covering the landing of 5th Mountain Division.

Late on the 21st of February, the first columns began to arrive along the south coast. The next day, British would evacuate the 2nd Royal Leicester Battalion, 2nd Black Watch, 2nd Yorcs & Lancs, KRRC Rangers, Welsh Fusiliers, 2nd Royal Engineer Battalion, and 2nd Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders. It was a full Brigade, and would be most welcome at Alexandria, where General Alexander could put it to good use on his Syrian Front. All the stevedores and dock workers that had followed them were routed further west on the coast to Ay Roumelis, and some went very resentfully when a British Sergeant bawled at them to move on, saying the main road was for British regulars only.

What was left of the 2nd Greek Regiment reached Sougia, some of the men openly weeping to realize the last free Greek soil was being lost, and they had not fought for it in any way. Their officers tried to buck them up by saying they must survive to join the Allied armies and fight on for Greece, but what they had seen of their allies, mainly their backsides as they retreated south, left them with little hope. That was the only Greek Regiment that got off the island, all the others fighting, or melting into the countryside to join what would become a long simmering guerilla war against the Germans.

The night of the 21st, two British Submarines slipped in close to the harbor at Chania, and they took on several AA gun crews that had been bravely holding their posts. The shore batteries were being spiked, but most of those men knew there would be no ship or submarine coming for them. They sat glumly near their demolished guns, some smoking cigarettes while they could, and contemplating the rest of the war as prisoners.

Shame was not reserved for the Greeks in their dilemma as to whether to fight or withdraw. When the British Ack Ack gunners saw Colonel Gregorio’s 6th Greek Regiment still doggedly trying to hold the line down near the seaplane base on Suda Bay, some looked for rifles to go and join them. They had fired at the German planes until their ammo ran out, then destroyed their Bofors guns to deny the enemy their use. Most simply could not just sit there as long as the Greeks kept fighting.

On the Afternoon of the 22nd of February, General Brooke called on Churchill to give him the news. “Well,” he said with a shrug. “Jerry’s got Crete—at least the main cities and ports. The 3rd Carpathians are still fighting for Maleme, and we still hold Chania, but it’s only a matter of time now—perhaps another day or two.”

Churchill was standing facing the warm hearth in his private chambers, his hands folded behind his back. “The relief convoy? He said quietly.

“It pulled off most all of the British regulars, but only one Greek regiment made it to the southern coast, and that was just battalion strength when it did.”

“The King?”

“He’s Safely aboard a submarine and bound for Alexandria.”

A moment of silence passed, and Alanbrooke knew Churchill was battling his inner demons over the decision. He waited respectfully for a moment more, then tried to put things in more positive terms.

“Alexander now had another good provisional brigade to lend a hand in Syria. And Boy Browning’s two Regiments can now safely be assigned to Iraq.” But Churchill’s mind was elsewhere.

“Brookie…” he began, “we let them down.” It was as if he hadn’t heard a thing Alanbrooke had said. “We let them down and they won’t forget this. God only knows if they’ll ever forgive us. I want everything done for the King, and I’ll get a letter off today with assurances that the British Empire will not rest until every last inch of Greek soil is finally liberated from German occupation.”

“I understand, sir,” said Brooke.

“Now,” said Churchill. “What about the Bismarck and Friedrich de Grosse?”

“Oh, they moved east into the Aegean. I can’t imagine that they would attempt to make a sortie against Palestine. If they do, we’ve enough air power there to make them pay for that indiscretion.”

“They aren’t going to shell Beirut,” said Churchill knowingly. “I’ve spoken with Bletchley Park again this morning. Those ships are headed for the Black Sea.”

“What? Up through the Bosphorus?”

“Indeed. BP thinks they want to pick a fight with the Russian Black Sea Fleet. Hitler seems keen on getting rid of it. He fiddled about with that Zeppelin raid on Novorossiysk a while back. This appears to be his coup de grace.”

“Well,” said Brooke. “A pity we didn’t get this earlier. We could have submarines waiting for them south of those narrows. And I daresay that’s what we’ll have to do if they ever get the notion of returning to the Med. In the meantime, I’ll take this as good news, Mister Prime Minister. What was left of the German Navy in the Med is now nicely bottled up in the Black Sea. All we have to do is make sure we keep the cork in the bottle.”

He smiled, but Churchill didn’t see him, and said nothing more.

Chapter 18

Operation Merkur would be a resounding success, and when Hitler got the news he was elated. All of the new offensives he had reinstated were going right according to plan. He was again filled with that heady adrenalin born of victory. With Crete taken, he would soon move in second line infantry to garrison the place, and turn it over to Goring for the movement of flak batteries and Luftwaffe personnel to work the airfields. He now had a good outer wall protecting the Aegean Sea, with his troops on both Crete and Cyprus, and small detachments on a few of the other Greek islands.

So the Führer was in high spirits when Rommel came to see him at OKW, saluting grimly, trying to force a smile, but averting his eyes with a sense that he had let the Führer down.

“Ah, Herr Rommel, my Field Marshal has finally come home.”

“It is good to be here,” said Rommel, “though I wish I could have come to you with better news concerning Operation Sturmflut. It was—”

Hitler knew a litany of excuses and complaints would soon follow, but that was not the conversation he wanted to have today with Rommel, so he cut him off at the pass.

“No need to explain,” said Hitler. “I have finally seen what you were up against, and frankly, I cannot believe that you prevailed so brilliantly given the odds and equipment the enemy had to put against you. Those heavy British tanks were most impressive. How many do you believe they had there in North Africa? Was it a full brigade as you reported earlier?”

Somewhat surprised by this sudden tack in the conversation, Rommel now recalled what Kesselring had told him. “ I believe so—a strong mechanized force, but—”

“Well, I can assure you that I now fully understand your situation. You tried to tell me all of this before, but seeing that captured enemy panzer you sent me finally made things clear to me. Herr Rommel, I must apologize to you for not supporting you. I should have sent you much more in the way of armor and supplies. Yet, having seen that new enemy tank, I think you would have still had the same hardships and difficulties you experienced. This is something that we must answer with solid German engineering. The British have a leg up on us, but we can and will respond. Come with me. Let me show you exactly what I am talking about…”

Rommel would soon see his first Königstiger, the prototype shipped to OKW HQ so Hitler could seed advice from others on how best to modify the tank. He was particularly interested in Rommel’s opinion, and seeing the largest main battle tank built by Germany in the war, he could not help but be impressed.

“This is but a prototype,” said Hitler. “As you can see, the main gun is inadequate, and so I have ordered it up-gunned to 120mm. The armor is not yet as strong as I wish, and the engineers are looking hard at the unique design used by that British monster. They tell me it is a composite of tiles, metal backing and other odd materials. Most unusual. I have ordered changes, and the engineers are working on them even now. Please, take your time and inspect this vehicle. If there is anything your trained eye spots that I may have overlooked, simply make a list and I will sent it directly to the engineers.”

“When might we see one of these in the field?” asked Rommel.

“I am optimistic that we can begin real production very soon, perhaps six months. This version is the Tiger II. I am also scheduled to see the newest Lion designs, so we will have a nice little competition. Oh, yes… Did I mention that Guderian has finally reached Baghdad? There is a man you could work with, Rommel. He’s run from the Turkish border all the way to Baghdad in a little over a month. It reminds me of the early days in Libya, when you were chasing the British to the Egyptian border. I have no doubt that you would have reached the Nile easily enough, were it not for that new enemy tank. That was the real problem in North Africa, and we must never allow the enemy such an advantage again.”

“My Führer, I am relieved and much gratified that you finally see this, but I am still sorry I let you down.”

“Nonsense, nonsense. If you had a beast like this at your command, you would have certainly beaten the British at their own game. We were late, that is all. This will be corrected. There will be more—new Panzerjagers with even heavier armor, new planes to support them, and deadly new weapons for our bombers. I have seen the results of a number of tests, and things are looking up! Last week, I delivered a nice little surprise to London. We have a new bomb—very powerful—and I am told it uses uranium at its core to create the explosion. It was only a prototype again, a small warhead to test the feasibility of such a weapon, but the results were very good. Now… Imagine yourself at your new command, with tanks like these, and a weapon that can smite the enemy armor concentrations and utterly destroy them! This is what lies ahead, Rommel. So do not look so glum.”

“My Führer, I have every hope to continue serving you.”

“Good. Take your rest, and then I will have new operations for you to oversee. Much will happen in the months ahead—you will see.”

“On that note,” said Rommel. “I was told there may be another panzer division for Tunisia. That would come in very handy there. If I did not have to use a full division to cover my southern flank near Ghafsa, I would have—”

“Yes, yes, all that is over,” said Hitler with a wave of his hand. “We must look to the future now. This business in Iraq is a major new front, and we certainly caught the British by surprise. I want you to look over the reports, see if you have any recommendations—when you have time, of course. First, go and see your family. Then, when you have rested, report to me again. I have big plans for my Field Marshall. This Winter offensive was very well timed.”

“In Russia?” asked Rommel.

“No, everything is frozen solid in Russia, and be glad you are not there if you think the desert was a harsh environment. Nothing has moved there for months, but the spring thaw must come one day, and we will soon look north to Leningrad. By that time, most of the Panzer divisions assigned to that operation will have been rebuilt. It was only this necessity that prevented me from sending you more in North Africa. I hope you understand.” Rommel nodded.

“The real winter surprise was in the Middle East, and this will matter a great deal, you will see. Once I get Baghdad and push on to Basra, I will have choked the life blood out of the British position in the Middle East. Then you and I will meet to discuss how best to proceed. I will want your thoughts on all of that, so do make time to read those reports sent by General Guderian. At last he shows me what he is capable of. In Russia he had the same complaints as you—new enemy tanks, inadequate supplies and fuel, impossible weather conditions. Now I think I have finally put the right man in the right place at the perfect time.” Hitler smiled. “Perhaps you will join him soon, and with tanks like this one at your command. Imagine that, Herr Rommel.”

The dark light was kindled in the Führer’s eyes, but for his champion, far away in Iraq, the cold light of reality was now in Guderian’s eyes as he considered what was now before him.

Baghdad, thought Guderian as he looked at the distant city, silhouetted by the red ball of the setting sun on the 22nd of February. Six weeks and here we are. There’s the city, the minarets rising above the domes of those ancient mosques, the smoke from the souks and bazaars. It sits there like Moscow, the heart of this country, with a river winding its way through the middle of the city, just like the Russian capital. This time, I hope we do not have to burn the place down to take it.

Back in ’41, it was the bone numbing cold and snow. Here it will be just the opposite. It is pleasant now, with temperatures reaching no more than 70 degrees Fahrenheit, but that will change in a few months. I am told that by late August, the mercury will be pushing 120 degrees here in this desert. It is only this mighty river that allows this place to exist. It comes all the way from the Turkish frontier, just as I have, but now this river is nothing more than an obstacle.

I have my Brandenburgers here on the west side of the Tigris. That’s where my first objectives are, the airport at Al Muthana, and of course the main rail yards. We’ve finally cleared the rail lines north to Mosul. The old Berlin to Baghdad railway is finally ours again, and as long as I can keep rolling stock moving, we’ll get adequate supply, and perhaps even reinforcements. So the Brandenburg Division will fight to clear this side of the river, and secure those two key objectives. Schmidt’s 10th Motorized will fight with them, and that will give me seven regiments here, considering that I will have all five regiments of the Brandenburg Division.

Now that Kirkuk is ours, Hitler must be dancing about OKW and in a fine mood. Good. I hope it lasts a while. But something tells me this fight here is going to be more difficult than anything we have yet attempted in this operation. Out along the Euphrates, we used our speed and superior motorization to simply run rings around those British Indian Divisions. One made it back here, in the south near the airport. The other went to Kirkuk, until the odds there looked too grim, and now it is undoubtedly retreating south to come here as well. From all reports, there are two others, the 8th and 6th Indian Divisions. So this may become a difficult fight.

I’ve taken the time to resupply, and get that rail line open. Now I have Schneider’s 4th Panzer Division east of the Tigris after he crossed at Al Taji. Tomorrow Westhoven returns with Hans Hube and all of 3rd Panzer Division. He stopped that spoiling attack the British launched at Palmyra, and thankfully, Hitler keeps producing the ground units he promised me, so that front can be held by the troops from 12th Infantry Korps.

There was some trouble up north after the British abandoned Kirkuk. It seems that Volkov’s Turkomen divisions thought they were going to rule the roost there at Baba Gurgur, but I had specific orders from Hitler himself that those oil fields were to be occupied by German troops. Volkov’s rabble got pushy, until Oberst Barenthin showed up with his Sturm Regiment of Fallschirmjagers. That settled the matter. The regiments of the 78th Sturm Division have come south on a parallel track to the retreating enemy units, and that will even the score here.

It will leave some 30,000 Turkomen infantry up there near Kirkuk by all accounts, but none of them want to tangle with Barenthin. I’ll get another infantry regiment for Kirkuk, and the Turkomen troops can serve as garrisons elsewhere in the region, and keep an eye on the Kurds. Lord knows, I don’t want any of that rabble down here stumbling about my operations. As far as Volkov’s contingent is concerned, their war here is over. Let them sit about and smoke their hashish.

Alright, the engineers have shored up the Hasan Bridge south of Al Taji. When Westhoven arrives tomorrow, he can use that bridge and join Schneider east of the river. Then I’ll want both divisions to strike from the north and aim right for the heart of the city. This place is a warren of political and military objectives. We’ll need to take the Royal Mausoleum and other palaces, all the rail yards and workshops, the key government ministry buildings, parliament, the major banks, and of course, the key bridges, if we can get them intact. There are also embassies from Belgium, Spain, Syria, Lebanon, Iran, Britain, the United States, and even China. Those of belligerent countries will have to be taken, searched, and closed.

I might swing around the city from the north, and see what prospects that might offer. There are a series of canals there, and a long berm the British call the “bund.” Those will be real obstacles for the panzer divisions, so I may need those regiments of the 78th to fight their way across and get me little bridgeheads for the mobile forces to cross the canals unmolested. After that, we take the fight to the city, and it will undoubtedly be house to house in places.

I have in hand perhaps the best and most experienced street fighters in all of Germany—the Brandenburgers. Fresh troops for the Lehr Regiment came in by rail on the first train from Mosul yesterday, and now that regiment has four good battalions. Most of these men cut their teeth in Volgograd, and this can be no worse. I’m told the British can be stubborn and tenacious on defense when they dig in their heels. We shall soon see.

What about the 22nd Luftland Division? There being no apparent threat to Dier-ez Zour and Haditha, I’ll leave the 47th and 65th Regiments there, and bring the 16th Luftland Regiment forward for a reserve infantry force. Lastly, there is one more arrival promised me this week on the next train from Mosul, and most timely. The good news I’ve sent Hitler has prompted him to cherry pick yet another fine unit from the Russian front. I will get the 901 Lehr Motorized Regiment, men I fought with in my drive for Serpukhov in 1941. As an independent unit, I can see why it caught Hitler’s eye. Oberst Georg Scholze still has that outfit, with good grenadier battalions under Kurt, Kübler and Schumer, a Panzerjager battalion under Hauptmann Klein, and my friend Alfred Muller with the Sturmgeschütz-Kompanie. I know them all. That will come in good time, and be most useful here.

Guderian looked at his watch, feeling the warmth rising with the early dawn. 1st Brandenburg Regiment will push right into Kazimiyah and try to get me my next bridge. That leads to the Faisal Mausoleum down where the river makes that sharp bend, and it covers the Al Safina Ferry site on the other side of the river. Once we have that, then we have two good crossing points, the bridge and the ferry sites.

Further south, I will send in 2nd Brandenburg Regiment along the main rail line. They’ll need to take the Spinning & Weaving factory, then push on through the palm gardens to Al Tayfiyah Ferry. 3rd Regiment will be on their right, south of the gardens, and they must root the enemy out of the grain silos and factory buildings there. As for 10th Motorized, they drive though the outlying town of Al Mansur, take and threaten to take those royal palaces. That will put them in a good position to flank that airfield.

It begins now….

NOTE: Maps of all Guderian’s operations are available at Writingshop.ws on the pages dedicated to Stormtide Rising.